


Action Adjacent

by hellowkatey



Series: You and Mando vs. the Galaxy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin - Freeform, Din POV, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, Mando POV, Mando is definitely an INTJ, Mando talks a fair amount actually, Protective, Reader Insert, Sassy, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, good wholesome content, no y/n, reader POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22081714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellowkatey/pseuds/hellowkatey
Summary: You have a long-running streak of narrowly missing bouts of action and adventure. You consider this a good thing in the world you live in.Statistically, your streak had to end at some point though. Maybe your luck hasn't completely run out since a Mandalorian you've come to know over the years happens to be in town.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Series: You and Mando vs. the Galaxy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057370
Comments: 13
Kudos: 256





	1. Kick Some Ass for Me, Mando

You have a long-running streak of narrowly missing bouts of action and adventure. You consider this a good thing in the world you live in. Your home planet was decimated while you were away for a family member's burial. Seven times bar fights have sprung up just moments after your departure. Business took you out of town last minute, causing you to miss a violet raid of your neighborhood by Stormtroopers. 

You moved to a different neighborhood in Nevarro soon after the raid. A house just wasn't a home anymore with a gaping hole in the kitchen. You rented a shitty room above a cantina and got a job tending the bar for all the drifters and bounty hunters that have set up shop over the years. You've come to like the crowd, though. It's a neutral land, filled with a population of people with fairly shifty moral grounds, but they track down worse criminals for a living. 

Greef Karga winks at you as he enters the bar. You roll your eyes sassily and pull out a glass from under the bar. 

"You ever gonna settle this tab Karga?" 

"Next time, of course," he grins. You look up, just now noticing his shiny caped companion following close behind. 

"Mando, you're back? Catch them all already?" 

"I did." his deep voice rings out through the helmet. This Mandalorian is practically a legend around these parts. You've only seen him in action sparingly, but the stories you've been told of him taking down seemingly insurmountable opponents blow your mind. You like when he's in town, not only because you feel a little safer, but you've also formed an acquaintance with the man.

"That was speedy. You beat your last record."

"Are you timing me now?" you can feel a coy smile on his face without having to see it. 

"You're too humble to brag about your ass-kicking, so I try to pick up the slack for you." 

"Okay okay," Greef Karga huffs. "You can flirt with the Mandalorian after our meeting." 

Your cheeks grow a little rosy, but you nudge Karga's shoulder playfully and return to your place behind the bar. The cantina is fairly empty compared to normal trends. Besides Greef and Mando there's only two drifters hogging a booth in the back and a local. With no further drinks to make you settle down on a stool and just observe the area. The drifters are huddled together talking quietly. Not entirely uncommon. Some people just want to fade into the background. Nevarro tends to be a decent place to do so in your experience. The local drunkard has his head down on the bar, half a drink still clutched in his fist as he snores softly. 

Greef slides something across the table, which Mando takes in his gloved hand and slides into his pocket. They exchange a few quiet words before he stands, turning towards the exit. You watch him leave, the evening light reflecting off his Beskar steel armor. For a man who might as well be made in metal, he moves silently. 

He reaches down for the door handle and then stops, turning his head towards you. "Goodbye,"

"Kick some ass for me, Mando." you wave, beaming at the fact he even stopped to acknowledge you. He nods and leaves the bar. 

Just minutes after Mando's departure, one of the drifters rose from the table and started waving a blaster in your face, yelling in a language you haven't heard in a long time.

Then came a blur of adrenaline, a flash of light, and a red-hot pain in your side. 

* * *

Din Djarin can identify the sound of a blaster firing from a parsec away. Usually, in times like these and in outpost worlds such as Nevarro, a blaster fire is not an abnormal thing to hear. 

Something didn't feel right though. 

Instinct took over, and he turned and started walking back in the direction he came. When the blaster fire began to increase tenfold, he began to run. Flashes of light illuminated the window of the cantina he had just departed. That familiar buzz in his chest ignited, and he succumbed to his training, pulling out his weapons. 

Two enemies. Three other people in the bar when he had left. 

He bursts through the door, taking out one of the travelers that were sitting in the corner with a blast to the neck before the man can even register what has happened. The other managed to jump behind the bar, sending rapid fires of bright green rays in every direction. Din takes a mental count of the remaining people in the room. Greef has turned his usual table into a barricade, sending his own shots towards the enemy between ducking for cover. The local is slumped on the ground. Alive or dead unknown. 

_Where is_ _she?_ He realizes. He can't see or hear her, and it's filling him with dread. 

The enemy's blaster jams and he takes the opportunity to send a blaze of fire towards him. The man jumps out of the way before restarting his randomized rain of firing. If it were anywhere else he would just throw a charge, tearing apart the bar and taking this infuriating traveler with it. He can't risk her getting caught in the crossfire thought... 

"Mando!" Greef yells. Din's gaze snaps over to him. He's pointing out the window where a few speeders are barreling towards the cantina. The riders don't look particularly friendly. "We're about to have company." 

Before Din can jump into action, there's a sudden burst of light from behind the counter, and the shooter crumbles to the ground.

Greef calls out her name, and both of them charge towards the bar. Din rounds it first, finding the traveler lying dead on the ground, a point-blank shot right under the chin. She's lying propped up against the back of the bar, a line of blood running from the corner of her mouth, one hand pressed to her side, and the other holding a blaster, still pointing it where the traveler was standing.

"It's me," Din says, approaching her from the side carefully. Her reaction time is slowed, as she turns her head a good few seconds after he says something and stares up at him with eyes devoid of emotion. 

"Mando," she says softly as he takes the blaster from his hand. Her hand drops to the side like a dead weight. "Record time." 

He removes her hand from her side where she was hit. It probably hit her ribs and could have caused a puncture in her lungs, which would explain the blood running from her mouth and her gargled breathing. He needs to get her some help and fast. Din grabs a long towel from under the bar and wraps it tightly around her waist to keep the pressure on the wound. She cries out in pain when he does this. 

"We need to get out of here. Do you have any bacta here?" 

She shakes her head. 

"Greef?" 

"On my ship, but that's on the other side of town." 

"I'll take her to my ship. It's close." Din hooks his arms under her knees and cradles her into his arms. 

"You're strong, Mando," she says, her voice trailing off as her mouth forms the "o" shape to draw out the last letter of his nickname. She falls limp as she ceases this. 

Greef looks at him, shaking his head. "I'll go out the back and divert them away. My speeder will leave those pieces of junk in the dust. You get her help." 

Din takes off out of the cantina with her wrapped in his arms. 

* * *

You awake to the stars, throbbing pain in your side, and feeling like you're flying. It takes a few moments to realize where you are and why you can see the stars, but it all comes back to you when you realize you're being carried by a Mandalorian.

"Mando?" you say, your throat raspy and dry. You don't even sound like yourself. 

"Almost there," he says, looking down at you. You feel his pace increase as the stars turn to the gray ceiling of what seems to be a ship.

"Where are we?"

"My ship. You're hurt." 

"No shit I feel like I got hit by a damn Sandcrawler." 

He carefully sets you down on a hard surface, and darts over to a cabinet. You've never seen him move this quickly before. You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look down at your abdomen. Peeling up the end of your shirt you reveal a blaster wound hitting you at the bottom of your ribcage. Despite some of the outside edges being immediately cauterized, you're still bleeding. 

"I need to cauterize this. And then bacta should do the trick," Mando says, dabbing your wound with a wet towel. "Breathe deeply for me." 

You breathe in, but it's like you're drowning. You cough, which only amplifies the pain in your abdomen. Your body involuntarily curls your legs towards your chest, but Mando's strong arms stop you. "You probably punctured a lung. I know it hurts, but you need to hold still." 

Panic is setting in as the adrenaline rush begins to fade away. The edges of your vision are blurring. You can hear him starting up the cauterizer, that horrible smell of burnt flesh already singeing the hairs in your nose and it hasn't even touched you yet. You drop your head to the side, away from Mando so he doesn't see the tears forming in your eyes. To your surprise, sitting on a shelf is a small, green creature with large glassy black eyes and ears that look to be larger than his body. 

"I think I'm hallucinating," you say, reaching out your hand towards the imaginary creature. 

Mando looks up to see The Child staring at the woman quizzically. "No, he's real." You recoil your hand.

The Child pads forward slowly, staring at you with its huge eyes. It grabs one of your fingers with its tiny hands, and for a moment you feel like you're floating; like the pain is melting away slowly. Maybe you're going into shock.

You look back at Mando to see that he has paused setting up the cauterizer and seems to be staring at the creature. The green fellow lets go of your hand, it's eyes droopy and tired. Mando then looks back towards you. "Breathe in again." 

"That didn't go well last time."

"Try for me. I've got you." 

You don't want to feel that pain again, but Mando seems to know what he's doing. You take a deep breath, and to your surprise, you only feel sore as you get a solid breath in. You do a few more times. 

"Did I black out and miss something, what did you do?" you say, sitting back up to examine the blaster wound. You gasp when you see the skin on your abdomen has smoothed over, just some bruising in its place. You hesitantly touch the area with your quivering finger tips. Mando doesn't reply, he just reaches around you to pick up the creature which looks to have fallen asleep, cradling it in his arms. While you've always found Mando to be pretty friendly despite his tendency to be a little socially awkward, the warm, fatherly type is not something you expected from him. "What is that thing?" 

Mando sets the creature in a compartment that looks to have become a makeshift nursery. He closes it and turns back to you. "I don't know. But he has... abilities. Healing is one of them apparently." 

You don't know what to say. There are so many questions but you don't even know where to start.

"Who were those men?" Mando asks. "I did not recognize the dialect."

You pull a classic Mandalorian move and decide not to answer him, suddenly becoming occupied with the frayed edge of your tunic instead. He doesn't seem amused.

"What did you get into?" 

"Nothing... technically." 

"Technically?" 

You slowly lower yourself off the table, feeling a little exposed laying in the center of the room with Mando looming over you. Your legs are shaky, but they hold your weight. You brush past him, examining the ship. It's dim, a little dirty. A few splatters of dried blood decorate the walls, accented by dents of those who probably tried to cross Mando. His bounties that tried to escape. Your reach out and trace the outline of a face-shaped one, wondering where that asset is now. 

"I've had a lot of dead-end jobs in my day. During the war, I was on a crew of a ship that I thought was just a shipping craft. Apparently they also shipped illegal cybernetic weapons." 

Mando's head tilts forward, and he rubs where his eyes would be on his mask with his hand. "You worked on a Guavian Death Gang ship?" 

"They weren't a death gang then!" you say as if that makes things better. "Not yet at least. I left because one of the members started to get too handsy. No low wage crap job in the galaxy could make me push through...that." you cringe. 

"Why did they attack the cantina then?" 

"I ran into one of the old crew members the other day. I thought he didn't recognize me, but... I guess I was wrong. They're not too big on people leaving with a heartbeat. Those guys were low level, though. Hardly any cybernetics. the Guavians aren't going to chase me across the galaxy to cut my head off. I just need to not run into them."

Mando is quiet for a long time. Long enough it starts to make you nervous. You want to know what's running through that mind of his. You thought you would be able to predict what he would say next, but what came out of his mouth was the opposite of what you ever would have dreamed up. 

"Join my crew. You can't go back to your job at the cantina, but I move around enough that they won't find you. And I can keep you safe if they do." 


	2. Ruwee's Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of sexual harassment/assault (not super in detail)

You expected him to offer to take them out for you like the good bounty hunter/infamous warrior he is. Then you would decline and say you have a plan, you don't need his help, you can find another job. 

But this just... checks so many boxes. You would not only have a job where you aren't trapped on some outpost planet, but you would be safe and not alone for the first time in your life. Not to mention spending all your time with Mando is a fairly agreeable existence in your book. Something about him just draws you to him, and you would certainly like to explore that. 

"Okay," you say, surprised at your own decision as it left your mouth. "If that wasn't a joke and you're serious, I'd actually really appreciate that." 

Mando shows you to an empty crew quarters room. It's small, with just a cot and a trunk, but it has a small window that allows a stream of light into the room. You love it. He tells you he will take you to your home above the cantina tomorrow to get your things, but for tonight you can sleep here. He even brings you one of his shirts so you don't have to wear your tattered and bloody tunic from the fight. It surprises you how soft and warm it is. For a man that lives his life in cold, hard armor, it actually makes sense for him to spend his down-time in such plush linens. You notice the shirt smells like him when you pull it on. The masculine scent comforts you and you fall asleep just minutes after your head hits the cot. 

* * *

Din isn't sure of the emotion he is feeling. Asking her to join him on the ship was impulsive. It's unlike him to speak without thinking about it thoroughly. It's her and he knows it. She draws this other side of him out. Her energy captivates him, intoxicating him with this desire to wipe the stoicism off his face whether others can see it or not. 

Maybe having her on the ship from now on is a bad idea for this very reason. She could be a distraction. 

Or it could be the thing he needs. 

* * *

Mando and you walk into town at dawn. He's tense, constantly scanning the horizon. You don't speak, but the silence is comfortable for the most part.

You get to your room and quickly pull out a bag from under your bed and start throwing your clothes in it. Mando paces around the small space while you do so. 

You're practically a nomad at this point, so it doesn't take long for you to fit all your belongings into one small bag. Everything you own can be slung over your shoulder. You'll probably even have room in your trunk. 

"Let me just use the refresher and I will be ready," you say, dropping your bag next to the door where Mando is leaning against the wall watching you. You go back into your refresher, relieving yourself and then splashing some cold water on your face. "This is the right thing to do," you say to yourself in the mirror. "I'll be safe with him." 

"Will you?" A soft voice suddenly hisses and you turn to find a large, muscular man pull back the curtain on your shower. He's clad in thick red leather garb, with a bushy dark beard and beady dark eyes. 

"Ruwee." his name leaves your lips just as he springs forward, clamping his hand over your mouth and pressing a blade to your throat. 

"Long time, my dear." he sneers, tracing your collarbone with the tip of the blade. "Haven't changed a bit." 

The man that made you leave your job on that ship. Yeah, that was Ruwee Veeck. 

You were only on the crew for two weeks before Ruwee noticed you. You've always been a spitfire, but Ruwee took your banter as more than just your personality. He insisted you had a crush on him, which you misinterpreted as his own friendly banter. That is until he cornered you in the cargo bay when you left your quarters to retrieve a sweater you left out there. You can still remember his mouth pressed against your ear, whispering disgusting promises of what he would do to you. His hands touched places you were not comfortable with, and even when you protested he laughed it off. 

You were lucky that day. He was called away for a raid before he could do anything too horrible. Even so, you didn't feel safe anymore. Your superiors would cover anything that happened up anyways, so you fled. 

You had hoped to never see him again.

You try to bite his hand, do anything to get him to release his grasp on you, but he's easily twice your size in height and body mass. 

"The Mando is out here, isn't he? Scream, and I slice your throat and let him watch you bleed out." 

He slides his hand off your mouth, but the knife remains at your neck, pressed dangerously close to your pulse point. 

"What do you want?" you whisper. 

"You know very well you can't just take off in an escape pod and expect to get away scot-free." His hand has wandered down your cheek, grazing your neck and settling on your waist. You suddenly wish it were still on your mouth. "You have two options. You can either come with me, and we finish what we started... or I kill you. What will your decision be?" 

"I guess you'll have to--"

The door to the refresher suddenly flies open as Mando comes barreling into the room. Before Ruwee can even react, Mando has somehow bent the arm holding the knife into an unnatural position away from your neck and practically thrown you out of the way. You scramble out of the refresher as the two wrestle on the floor for a few moments before Ruwee stops moving, and Mando pulls himself to his feet to stand over the lifeless body. He comes over to where you are sitting on the floor of your bedroom and crouches next to you. 

"Are you okay?" 

You nod, finally pulling your eyes away from Ruwee to look at Mando.

He offers you his hand, pulling you to your feet when you take it. "We need to go. There's likely others around." 

You grab your bag and the two of you descend from your room and emerge out in the open air. The reality of your situation hasn't quite hit you yet. You haven't had this much action since...well, ever. You really just feel numb. 

Luckily, no other gang members find you along your route. You return to Mando's ship-- which is named Razor Crest, as you found out on the walk home. 

He leaves you to put your things away. As you reorganize your things into your new room and put on a pair of clean clothes, everything seems to finally settle down, and the panic begins to set in. You've almost died twice in a very short period of time. If it weren't for Mando... you don't know what you would do.

You wander out of your room and find your way to the cockpit where Mando is getting things set up for take-off. He stops when you appear at the top of the ladder. 

"You settled?" he asks. There's sincerity in his voice, with a little bit of genuine worry. Instead of answering you walk towards him, confidently at first, but as you get close to him, you get more careful to not set him off. Before he can protest, you reach forward and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your head into his chest. For a moment he stiffens, but then carefully wraps his own arms around you to return your hug. Not only does he return it, but he leans into it, rubbing circles on your back with his hand and leaning his helmet against your head ever so softly. You stand like this for a few long moments. Time seems to have slowed down. You think you can hear his heart pounding rapidly under his armor... or maybe that's your own nerves echoing in your ears. 

Finally, you release him. His hands graze along your arms as you step away before he pulls them together and clasps them. Like he's trying to exercise self-control. You know your cheeks are burning and your ears are probably red, but you're pretty sure from the way he's acting he's experiencing a similar situation.

"Thank you," you say, trying to cut through the thick tension. "I'd be dead if it weren't for you." 

Mando is quiet, but he nods. Apparently, all it takes to make a Mandalorian speechless is to give him a hug. You'll have to remember that for a less heavy moment.

Mando offers you a seat and takes his own in the pilot's chair. You ask him where you're going. 

"Vandor 1." 

Your nose crinkles. "A cold planet. Thanks, Greef." 

Mando chuckles a little bit. "I have spare warm clothes if you need them, but it shouldn't take long." 

"Who are you going after?" 

"His name is Palo Tarkin. Escaped from a droid-manned prison ship when it was passing through the system." 

"I'm surprised Greef would even give you a job considering your status with the guild," you say, causing Mando to turn completely around to look at you. "I'm a bartender, Mando, I hear _everything."_

"Greef and I have... an understanding."

You raise an eyebrow. "Right. If you're not in good standing with the guild then why do you keep on looking for work? You're incredibly skilled, you could do anything." 

He turns around, finally switching into hyperspace, and then putting the ship on auto. He turns the pilot chair so you're facing one another. "It is The Way of my people. We keep moving, keep working."

"You're the only Mandalorian I've seen in a long time, though." 

He looks down at his lap. "Times have changed. A lot has happened in the last millennia. War has fractured our stability, creating factions that don't understand what it means to wear the armor anymore. It's ironic, really. War unified the Mandalorian people thousands of years ago." 

"What happened, then?"

You've never heard Mando say so many words at once. He explains the history of the Mandalorians. How civil wars and their tensions with the Jedi caused so much turmoil. He explained how Mandalorian began as a race but evolved into a culture with a melting pot of different people who believed in The Way. He also told you about the downfall and the ultimate fracturing into different groups. 

"So you're a strict follower. That's why you can't remove your helmet?" 

He nods. "No living person can see my face."

"But you can take it off so long as no one sees you?" 

"I have to eat somehow." 

You've always wondered what he looked like. Does his face match his voice? You sort of hoped by living with him you would find out, but now understanding his practices, maybe not. 

"What if you had a family? Could they see your face?" 

He's quiet for a moment. You half expect him to pull out a book of rules. 

"That part is... a gray area."

"Well, did your father or mother show you his face when you were growing up?" He exhales sharply like the wind was kicked out of him. You realize you may have struck a sore area. "Oh Mando, I'm sorry if I--"

"No, please," he sighs. "I just... I was a foundling. A group of Mandalorians saved me when my home was being attacked and trained me as their own. I haven't removed my helmet to another person since I was a boy." 

"I'm sorry," you say, bowing your head.

"You didn't know." 

* * *

You land on Vandor 1. It only takes an hour or so for the Razor Crest to turn from comfortable to freezing. You're laying in your bunk, teeth chattering as you curl into a ball to try and keep warm when you hear movement out in the cargo area. You wander out to find Mando fully suited up, a thick cape that wraps around him completely covering most of his Beskar armor. He's cleaning one of his knives. 

He stops when you approach. 

"You're still awake?"

"The cot froze solid. You said you have warm clothes I can borrow?" 

He nods, standing and disappearing into a compartment. When he comes back he has a small stack of thick fabrics, which he lays on your arms. You already feel warmer just holding the extra material.

"This planet has 4 hours of daylight and 30 hours of night."

"This planet really sucks," you sigh. 

"I should be back here by the next nightfall. We landed in a hidden area so you should be safe. I just need you to watch over the child while I'm gone." 

You nod in agreement. You'll take babysitting over tending bars to rowdy drunkards any day. You're intrigued to spend more time with the kid anyway. 

Mando holds out a blaster. "I know you know how to use this." You cringe a little, remembering the last time you had to fire one of these, but you take it and holster it in your belt.

Mando slides his knife in its holster and stands to leave. The bay door opens with a button on his forearm. Just as he starts to walk down the ramp, you reach out and grab him at the crook of his elbow. He stops and looks at you. 

"Be careful." 

He just nods. You release his arm and he walks down the ramp, closing the door behind him and leaving you in the darkened cargo bay. 

* * *

_She'll be fine_. Din tells himself as he takes off across the icy wasteland. He hates that he's been thinking about her, everything that could go wrong while he's gone running through his head. This is why he doesn't like to take on a crew, but he does need someone to watch the kid and keep him out of trouble. 

She was right. Vandor 1 does suck. His cape keeps him warm enough, but he can already feel the cold cooling the metal that surrounds his body. Beskar is great for protection, but on cold planets, it can be a hindrance when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. 

He thinks about when she embraced him when they were leaving Nevarro. The way her warmth managed to engulf him through his armor. How his body betrayed him and leaned into her hug. Maker, he's been thinking about that constantly since it happened. Every time she gets near him he secretly hopes she will do it again. 

Din hates that he longs for her touch so badly, but he isn't surprised. Living alone for so long can take its toll sometimes. 

* * *

The day passes and then the long night of Vandor 1 begins. You sit on the floor of the cargo bay playing with the child by rolling a ball to him. This excites him, and he nudges it back with an adorable amount of effort. 

"Being Mando's kid must be interesting, right? You're getting to go on so many adventures!" you gush, and the child coos in response, pushing the ball back to you. He doesn't exactly respond, but you don't have much else to do. Maybe at the next trading outposts, you should pick up some more games to play with the kid. Maybe some books for yourself. You don't know what Mando does when he's here for long periods of time, but he must get pretty bored. 

The chill on the ship hasn't gotten much better. In fact, despite wearing one of Mando's thick sweaters, two layers of pants, and three pairs of socks, you still aren't quite warm yet. You tried to find something on the controls that would heat things up, but it's an old ship. You gave up. The window in your room doesn't help either, as it seems to let more of the cold in. In fact, you dragged a mass of linens into the cargo hold and have set up a nest of blankets and extra clothes in the corner. 

You get the child ready for bed. Luckily, he seems unbothered by the cold. His skin radiates heat, which you take advantage of by cuddling him for a little while. Once in his pod, you aren't worried about his body temperature. You head to your nest, layering as much as you can on top of you to trap the cold out. It helps for the most part, and after a while, you finally drift off to sleep. 

You awake to the sound of creaking, and a rush of freezing air. Peering out from a small face hole you left yourself for air, you vaguely see movement in the cargo bay, but it's too dark to actually tell who it is.

"Mando?" you call out drowsily, glancing over at your nearby blaster just in case. The footsteps stop. 

"Where are you?" his disembodied voice rings out. 

"Corner." 

Once he's nearly standing at the side of your makeshift bed you can sort of see a faint glare of light reflect off his armor. "Why are you out here?" 

You're not sure how his night vision is, but if it's even slightly good you're sure he's getting a kick out of you wrapped up like a swaddled child. "My room is too cold." 

"You could have taken mine." 

"Don't you--you know-- need a bed to sleep in yourself?" 

He crouches down, and suddenly his gloved hand is on your cheek. It lingers there for a long moment before he pulls it away. 

"I can feel that you're still cold through my glove." 

You reach your arm out from the blankets and rest them on his forearm. The beskar feels like a literal ice cube when you touch it, and you immediately spring up. 

"Maker, Mando, what are you talking about, you're probably freezing!" You take off one of the blankets and throw it around his shoulders.

"I'm fine, really," he says, but he hugs the blanket around him closer. 

"You really need to get that armor off. Here, you can have some of these as well--"

"You probably need them more than I do." 

You cross your arms at this, shaking your head at him. "Don't tell me you don't want to just curl up under a thousand blankets and go to sleep right now after being out in that cold. Also wait," you look behind him. "Where's the bounty?" 

Mando sighs. "The idiot jumped into a ravine. I'll get a proof of termination fee, but it's far less than I expected to earn." 

"So we spent time on this hellish planet for no reason?"

"Yes." 

"Fantastic." 

Mando excuses himself to go to bed, and you settle back into your nest. You forced him to take two of the spare blankets, which you're glad he didn't argue about, but you definitely notice the difference from just those two layers. Your body stays rigid, shaking enough to keep you in a strange between stage of awake and asleep for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

You're about to give up hope when you hear quiet footsteps approach, and a gentle hand settle on your shoulder. You roll over to see the outline of Mando next to you. 

"You're shivering," he whispers. You reach up to touch his hand, and when you do you freeze. You're not touching a gloved hand. It's his flesh. Under your touch, he doesn't pull away, so you relax a little, reveling in the surprising warmth of his skin.

"I'm great."

"Come with me." It's more of a question than a statement, but it strikes your attention.

"To where?" 

You can only hear the breathing between you for a few very long moments. You swear you can hear his heart beating in the silence. "I can't sleep knowing you're out here cold. Come... with me." 


	3. Did Your Father Give You a Choking Hazard?

Din's room is a lot warmer than her's. It's still cold, but he still feels guilty as hell.

For a while, he tossed and turned, exhausted, but unable to find sleep. The image of her laying on the cargo bay floor kept flashing in his brain. 

Din had two choices. He could try to push it out of his mind and get some sleep. She would be a little uncomfortable, but fine. He could also invite her to share in his warmth, but this option comes with the cost of crossing a line of intimacy they may not be able to go back from. 

Not that he really would want to go back. 

Truth be told, Din has had a little bit of a thing for her ever since he and Greef started meeting at that cantina. Not only is she beautiful, but she always had this smile on her face that was contagious, and went out of her way to talk to him. Most people are intimidated by the whole Mandalorian garb to approach him, but not her. He swore she could see right through his beskar. 

Maybe it's more than a little bit of a thing. 

Din gets out of bed and walks to the door to his quarters, but then hesitates, his hand floating over the handle. The pros and cons flash through his brain. 

Pro: if she says yes, she will be warm and he will get to hold her for a night. 

Con: if she says no, that might cause a bit of awkwardness

Pro: she once mentioned she sleeps better with another person. Maybe that was just a flirty bartender joke, but maybe it has some truth to it.

Con: Tiny bunks

Con: The issue of the helmet. 

Din grimaces, glancing over at his helmet on the side table. He knows the loophole. As long as no living thing _sees_ his face, he is upholding the creed. This means so long as the room is pitch black or she has a blindfold, he can remove his helmet. But can he trust her to not pull out light and take advantage of his vulnerability? 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He used the refresher today so it's still a little damp. That also means today would be as good as ever to suggest this, though. 

Making his decision, Din picks up his helmet and slips it over his head. 

Pro: He can trust her.

He walks out of the room and into the cargo bay. Her mass of blankets looks to be curled in a very tiny area. His chest feels heavy as he realizes she's curled in a tiny ball, trying to keep warm. He's definitely made the right choice by offering this. He couches down next to hear and reaches his hand out gently to grasp her shoulder. 

She rolls over a few moments later. It's dark, but he can see the glimmer of her eyes. They're wide with confusion. 

"You're shivering," he whispers, feeling her body basically vibrating under his touch. Suddenly her hand reaches up to meet his. He feels her freeze when she touches his flesh for the first time. For a moment he thinks she might just reject him outright, but to his relief she keeps her hand there, relaxing and curling her fingers around his. This is the motivation he needs.

"I'm great," she replies. He can hear her teeth chattering between words. 

"Come with me." 

"To where?" 

The moment of truth. Maker, why can't he just spit it out though? He's sitting here opening and closing his mouth like a damn porg. 

"I can't sleep knowing you're out here cold. Come... with me." 

She's silent for a moment, but then he hears her start to move. She quietly stands, keeping the blankets wrapped around her tightly. "Only because I'm this close to turning to a damn icicle," she says, but he can hear something besides her usual snark in her tone. It's nerves and excitement. He knows the feeling. 

She follows him back to his quarters. To his relief, once in his room she goes straight to his bunk and sits on the side. She's staring at him with this weird look on her face. 

"You're not in armor," she says, her eyes raking up and down his body. Din chuckles a little. 

"Do you think I sleep in that stuff?" 

"No--no of course not. I've just... never really seen you in normal clothes. Or felt your skin." 

"There are lots of firsts today."

"What about... your creed?" 

Din reaches over and presses the light switch. The dim lights cut out, leaving his windowless room completely pitch black. 

"Can you see me?" he asks. 

"I can't see a damn thing." 

Din reaches up and removes his helmet, and walks closer. He sets the helmet down on the dresser next to his bed, where he usually keeps it. 

"Then you can't see my face. And I have not broken my creed." 

She gasps softly. "Your voice!"

He feels for the bed and sits down next to her. Her leg is pressed up against his. She doesn't move away. In fact, she seems to lean into him. "Is that a good thing?" 

"I've just never heard it not coming through your helmet. It's... yes it's a good thing." 

* * *

Mando dictates it's time for bed. Your mind is racing with the entirety of the situation unfolding around you. What prompted this? Is this Mando's way of making a move? Or is he genuinely just doing this because it's cold as hell?

From the way his touch lingers, you suspect it might be more towards the first. Your heart skips at the thought of that. 

You lay down on the interior of the bunk. His bed is larger than yours. While yours is a fair size for one person, his is probably twice the size of what you have. Laying flat on your back there's room for an entire Mando next to you. He slides in carefully, filling the entire space. Even without his armor, Mando is much larger than you. You'd be intimidated if you didn't know him. 

At first, you just lie there next to one another. Your arms and legs are pressed up against his, but neither of you moves. Oh, how you just want to engulf yourself with him. 

"Hey Mando," you say softly. 

"Yes?"

"Remember when we were talking about Mandalorian parents?" 

"I do." 

"How do Mandalorian couples act? Don't take this the wrong way, but are they distant and all-business?" 

You concentrate on his breath while you wait for him to respond. It's even and calm. 

"Not at all actually. The married couples I encountered were very affectionate with each other and to their family."

"Like you are with the kid." 

A pause. 

"I was a foundling once, too. I know what it's like." 

"So you're going to keep him?" 

He lets out a deep breath. "I will try and find his place of origin. If I can't, I will raise him as my own. It is the way." 

You roll onto your side, facing the wall. "I'd miss the kid... if I were you.. and I had to give him up." 

Mando doesn't reply. You assume he may have fallen asleep. Having him next to you is like having a personal heater. It's much better than sleeping on the cold cargo bay ground. As you begin to drift off, you feel movement beside you, and an arm reaches over your abdomen. You smile as his other arm slides under your pillow and he pulls you ever so carefully back until you're flush against his chest. Now, _this_ is what you wanted. 

His face nuzzles into the back of your neck, and you move slowly so your legs intertwine a little more. He exhales into your hair, the warmth spreading across your scalp. It takes a few moments for you to finally fall asleep, this time exceedingly warm. 

* * *

You wake up to an empty space next to you. The feeling of Mando's arms around you is still burning on your skin. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and looking around the room. The door is open, letting a sliver of light in. Probably so you don't kill yourself trying to leave his pitch-black room. You saunter out, hitting the vac tube before heading to your own chambers to change clothes. Picking from the pile of warm clothes Mando left you, you pull out a large black shirt that is tunic length on you. You pair it with a utility belt to hold your and a pair of gray pants. 

Mando is in the cockpit. The ship has taken off and he seems to just be getting into hyperspace when you climb the ladder. 

"Thank the Maker we're leaving this dumb planet," you say. 

"You don't like the cold?" he says, not turning around.

Mando? Teasing you? You don't know who's wearing his armor but it sure isn't the Mando you know. 

"I like the cold just about as much as you like droids." 

A distorted noise comes from his helmet. If you didn't know any better that was a glimpse of a laugh. 

You pick up the kid from where it's sitting on the ground, milling around with a piece of the accelerator. "Aww did your father give you a choking hazard?" you tickle him under his chin, making the kid make a sort of giggling noise. You're a comedic genius today apparently. 

You glance up at Mando to see if he reacts to your comment. He's seemingly ignoring you, much to your disappointment. 

You wonder if your little sleeping arrangement will be brought up at any point. You're still thinking about it. You haven't slept that good in _years_. Was it a one time deal? Should you assume that's the new normal and show up at his door tonight, or will he reject you? 

Your mind is racing, so you set the child down and excuse yourself back downstairs for a moment. You didn't realize the amount of tension in the cockpit until you reached the bottom of the ladder. The weight of being in the same room as him seems to be lifted off your chest. You go to the refresher and splash some water on your face. The cool liquid refreshes you, cooling off the ruminations flowing through your head. You're overcomplicating things and you know it. If Mando was willing to ask you to come to bed with him last night, he obviously has the capacity to do it again and set the tone. The man is quiet with strangers, but he's not socially inept. 

You dry your face off, glancing up in the mirror. In your reflection stands none other than Mando. In a quick reflex of panic, you whirl around, driving the heel of your hand towards him. He catches it in his hand with ease. 

"What would _that_ have done to an intruder?" he mocks your choice of defense. 

You pull your hand out of his, nudging him in the center of the chest. "What the hell? In the refresher? Really?" Flashbacks of your last attack in a refresher flash through your mind. 

He looks down at his boots. It seems like he may have forgotten about that. 

"Sorry, I..." 

"What are doing here?" You can feel him staring at you through that damn helmet, not answering your question. As much as you're attracted to this damn man, he drives you up the wall. That same tension from the cockpit builds, and your threshold for being able to process all of this drops. You huff, pushing past him in o the cargo bay. "Dammit Mando!" 

He follows close behind. While you're practically fast walking towards your quarters, his steps are long and calm. It annoys the hell out of you. When you're passing his quarters he suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist, carefully but firm, pulling you into his room. In an instant, the door slams and the lights are shut off, leaving you in complete darkness. "Mando!" you bellow, slapping the wall for the lights, but the sound of his helmet hitting the floor makes you stop in your tracks. 

He says your name in his unaltered voice. You stop your meltdown. "What is wrong?" he asks. 

"Nothing is _wrong_..." you say and he scoffs.

"Is this about last night?" You don't reply. "Did I..." his dominance falters into more of a whisper. "overstep?" 

Through the darkness, you feel around until you find his hand. It's gloved but you take it, lacing your fingers in his. "Mando, I didn't flirt with you every time you walked in those cantina doors for no reason. Last night was the best sleep I've had in years. I just... don't know what it means, exactly." 

The darkness makes the moments of silence between you much more punctuated. If you weren't holding onto him, you'd think he'd dissolve into the background. 

Instead of disappearing, he actually does quite the opposite. He tugs on the hand you're holding so you are drawn towards him. His other hand catches your body, wrapping around your waist. You can feel his breath and you instinctively lean in, pressing your forehead to his. Turning off the lights so you can interact with him without his helmet was the best move. 

You lay in limbo for a very long moment, sharing the same breath with him as his fingers rub circles on your waist. Your free hand not captured by his trails up his chest, finally resting on his shoulder where there's a dip at his collar bone. When your fingers start to dance along the contours of his shoulder muscles, he takes the plunge, closing the distance between your lips and kissing you 

and boy

does he _kiss_ you.

Your hand slides up behind his neck and he releases your hand to get a better hold on your waist. He kisses you like he's been chained back, and someone finally released him from his restraints. It's sensual and sweet, but you can feel the intensity behind it. 

And his hands

are 

everywhere.

They slide up and down your back, pulling you closer and closer to him as if that's even possible. Maker, you wish his armor was gone so you're not being sandwiched between his strong embrace and a plate of solid metal. 

Not that you'll stop this for anything. 

Your hands migrate up into his hair and run through his shaggy locks. He practically purrs when your nails comb over his scalp, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You lean into his hand, and he stops for just a moment, hovering just over your mouth. The only sound is labored breathing coming from the both of you. 

"Din," he says, his mouth so close you can feel the way his lips form the letters. 

"Din?" 

"My real name is Din Djarin." 

You lean forward and plant a quick kiss on his lips. "Din." you repeat, kissing him again so you can feel the smile on his face at you saying his name. "Finally tired of being called Mando?" 

He chuckles, running the pad of his thumb on down your cheek. "People will always call me Mando. But _you_ can call me Din." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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